Lucky
by venefxcia
Summary: A little luck never hurt anyone. My second Neville story to feature Ellie. Twoshot; PLEASE R&R.
1. Chapter 1

Luck was never really something that was on his side.

He tried to stay as optimistic as he could, but sometimes, he was just miserably unlucky.

Neville felt sick. Six years and a new teacher later and he still couldn't make a proper potion to save his life. Slughorn was much more helpful than Snape ever was, and in his own defense, he'd actually improved, but not noticeably. To anyone else, he was just ever so slightly less apt to melt his cauldron. Bless Hermione, helping him as often as she could granted that they were at the same workdesk, but his admiration tended to fall elsewhere.

Elspeth Halloway.

Ellie was a pretty, petite little Gryffindor of the same year. She had bright blue eyes and beautiful brown curls that framed her sweet cheeks and draped themselves over her shoulders, straight bangs barring over her pale, white forehead, grazing long eyelashes. She was the star potions student, her talents even surpassing Hermione's. He'd been friends with her since they were first years. She was always kind to him and protected him. She protected him like a teenage girl protects their kid brother.

But that wasn't what Neville wanted. He didn't want to be the sympathetic, weak, brother-figure to Ellie. He wanted to be the one that she could lean on, the one that protected her. He wanted to be everything to her. Neville had always loved Ellie; he'd realized it when she stood up to Snape for him. He could vividly remember her saying, "shove off!" and "he doesn't deserve the way you treat him!"

She was promptly sent to McGonagall, who merely administered an extremely light punishment of an apologetic letter to Snape.

Neville couldn't help but remember this every time he walked into potions class on days like today.

He sat down at his workdesk next to Hermione. She stared at her book, almost as if hoping that every word in the text would somehow fly off the pages and into her head. Slughorn had prewarned the students that he planned on administering another little competition, stating that whoever could successfully brew a batch of the Draught Of Peace would win a prize. As usual, Neville was unprepared to cook, but prepared to fail. The Draught Of Peace was very difficult. The ingredients have to be added in a very certain order, the mixture has to be stirred exactly the right number of times and the heat of the flames on which it is simmering has to be lowered to exactly the right level for the right number of minutes before the final ingredient is added. He knew he couldn't make this potion, but he knew Ellie could. He remembered a month earlier, Slughorn had assigned them to make a batch of Amortentia, and Ellie's was perfect. Slughorn then proceeded to carry the cauldron around the classroom, asking each student what they smelled in order to prove her proficiency. Neville had barely muttered something that sounded like cinnamon (what Ellie smelled like) and licorice wands (her favourite treat), and he recalled Ellie saying she smelled the lush aroma of a bloomed garden and a hint of smoke.

He didn't quite understand it.

But as class progressed, his heart started to hurt even more. He absently stirred the cauldron as he peered up to watch Ellie. He watched her lips as she counted every stir, and she kept peering to her watch. She suddenly placed down the ladle, scurrying over to the ingredients cabinet, giving Parvati Patil a playful bump to the hip. The two girls giggled, and Neville looked down at his cauldron. It wasn't even simmering. He heard Hermione let out a frustrated grumble, seeing her run her hands through her hair, grabbing two fistfuls and groaning again. Ellie returned to her cauldron, carefully prepping the next ingredient.

He couldn't quite explain it, but she made potions beautiful.

Ellie ended up winning, which didn't really seem to be a surprise to everyone. And to make sure that the potion was perfect, Slughorn served a dose to the emotionally stressed Hermione, who quickly calmed down. Satisfied with the reaction, Slughorn presented upon Ellie a small flask of Felix Felicis.

Neville stared at the flask that she held between her finger, the gold potion gleaming. He was jealous. He wondered what would happen if he'd come upon one of his own. He wondered what it would be like, just for an hour or so, to have all the luck in the world. To, for once, not be bullied, to be able to pass Snape's classes, or if he would be able to tell Ellie how he felt.

He gathered his things as class ended, wanting to leave as quickly as possible. He was afraid that the heat flushing to his face was hot enough to make all the cauldrons boil.

"Neville!" Ellie called on the staircase, catching up to him. He turned around quickly, seeing her scurry to him, her curls waving along. He noticed the vial hanging from a gold chain around her neck. He quickly looked away, straining away the red flush.

"O-oh, hi, Ellie…" he stuttered, trying to avert his eyes.

"Are you okay, Nev? You haven't spoken to me all day…"

"Y-yeah! I'm fine… congrats on winning," he said as she stood next to him as the staircase moved.

"Oh…" she said under her breath. "Yeah, thanks…"

"What are you going to use the potion for?" he asked immediately, still thinking about all the 'what ifs'. Ellie paused, tucking hair behind her ear.

"I don't know…" she said softly. "I… I actually don't really think I need it."

Neville tilted his head at her as the staircase hit the landing. "Wh-what do you-"

"Why don't you have it?" she offered.

"Wh-what?"

"I'm pretty okay with things right now," she said, smiling at him as she pulled the gold chain from around her neck. "Besides, a little luck never hurt anyone." She grabbed his hand gently at the wrist, holding it open. Neville blushed at the contact, feeling the cool metal hit his hot palm as she dropped it in his hand. She closed his hand, holding his hand with both of hers.

"Th-thanks," he said, smiling weakly.

"Good luck."


	2. Chapter 2

Fire.

That's what it felt like in his hand. Neville hadn't let go of the Liquid Luck since Ellie had dropped it in his hand. He'd run up to the dorm, sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the vial on the chain. Realistically, it was light as a feather, almost as if it could float away from his palm, but right now, it felt like a boulder in his hand.

"Oi, Nev?" Dean said, coming in to sit on the edge of his own bed. "What have you got?" He stretched his neck, trying to peek. Neville closed his hand around the vial.

"N-nothing…" he mumbled, but Dean had already caught a glance of the gold gleam.

"Felix Felicis?" he asked. "Isn't that Ellie's…?"

Neville sucked in a deep breath. "Yeah… she, um… she gave it to me…"

Dean chuckled, his arms across his chest. "So, how are you gonna use it?" Neville managed a shrug, followed by a small, unknowing noise. "Really? An entire world of possibilities and you don't know what you would use it for?" Dean gave him a look, almost a gesturing look.

"What…?" he asked. His friend rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, that little potion could be your chance with Ellie," he insisted.

"Y-you mean… so Ellie will-"

"Of course," he interrupted. "Mate, you've been in love with the girl for almost three years. You're miserable without her. I mean, remember 4th year when you we're too late asking her to the Yule Ball because she'd been asked by Malfoy?"

"Y-yeah… I remember that…" he said quietly. He restrained a shudder; the Yule Ball marked when Ellie had begun a relationship with Malfoy, which lasted a year until he dumped her. Neville could still remember the way she looked with the heartbroken tears in her eyes when she ran into the common room, running to him to confide in her best friend. While the image was sad, he found it beautiful.

"Look, I'm not saying that she's be falling all over you," Dean continued, "but… I dunno, maybe it would give you the proper opportunity to tell her how you feel." A silence fell between them as he heard Ellie giggle downstairs, talking to Ginny. Dean smirked at his reaction, getting up and clapping his friend on the shoulder. "It's worth a shot. Besides, if it doesn't work out, you can at least use the effects to make it through the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam." Neville clenched his eyes shut, flopping back onto his bed, then staring at the ceiling.

"Hell, I forgot that was today…" he groaned. Dean chuckled.

"I imagined you did."

Neville sighed deeply. For years, all he wanted was for Ellie to know how he felt. He wanted her to understand why he'd been so angry when he first saw her snogging with Malfoy. He wanted her to finally see him the way he saw her. Dean was right. If he wanted to have any chance of finally pouring his heart out to her, he needed to use the potion. "Okay… during lunch."

Unfortunately for Neville, lunch was a few hours away. He still had three classes before he would see her, and sitting through all of them, thinking nervously about the situation to come was terrifying to him.

Herbology was the worst. Everything he looked at made him think of Ellie. He remembered helping her prepare for her Herbology O.W.L.s. They'd spent so much time together in the greenhouses; while he deeply wanted her to do well and to spend time with her, he could tell that it was the only thing that was getting her past the demise of her relationship. He'd helped her plant a plot of tiger lilies, her favourite flower, in an empty soil plot in the garden. Even among all of the extravagant, incredible bouquets, to Neville, the simple orange flowers were the most beautiful plants he'd ever seen.

After Herbology, Neville slowly, and barely willingly, made his way to the Great Hall, knowing it was lunch time. He leaned by the large open doors, peering down the Gryffindor table. He saw Ellie sitting with her Hufflepuff friend, Piper, who'd come over to share lunch with her. He reached into his pocket, taking out the potion vial. He stared at it for a few moments before unscrewing the top and raising the vial to his lips.

"What'cha doin', Longbottom?" he heard Goyle taunt as he passed him, roughly bumping into him and causing the vial to drop out of his hand and hit the floor, glass shattering and the potion splashing onto the floor. Goyle laughed and walked away as Neville stared at the ground in horror as his last chance sank into the cracks of the stone floor. Neville chucked the only think in his hand, the corked cap, in Goyle's direction, the miserable feeling setting back into his stomach.

"Neville…?" said a soft voice from behind him. He turned and saw Ellie, staring at him worriedly. "Are you okay?" He couldn't piece together a coherent sentence. He felt so sick and stupid, and Ellie just had to show up at his worst moment. He continued to stare down at the floor. She blinked, then looked down as well, seeing the shattered vial and little flecks of gold. "Is that… the potion? What happened?"

"I-I… I was going t-to… I thought that… if I-I'd used it… you would…" he stammered nervously. Ellie tilted her head, watching as Neville blushed.

"L-like you?" she added. He closed his eyes, feeling even more sick.

"W-well… y-yes…" he said quietly. There was a slight pause, then he heard Ellie giggle. "E-Elspeth… please don't laugh at me…"

"Neville, I'm not laughing at you to be mean," she said, stifling another giggle, "I'm laughing because… Neville, I've always liked you."

Neville froze. "Wh-what?"

"You're my best friend," she said, taking a step closer to him. "You're the only boy whose ever been worth my time and I've been too stupid to notice."

He took a deep breath. "Y-you're lying…"

Ellie smiled. She took another step toward him, standing on tiptoe, and placing her lips on his. Neville froze against Ellie's lips, completely dumbstruck by what was happening. All too soon, she pulled away, staring up at him.

"Y-you kissed me…"

"Yeah… is… that okay?"

For the first time that day, Neville genuinely smiled as he leaned down for another kiss. "I could get used to this." 


End file.
